


I’m Not Me

by Panic_for_Bucky_Barnes



Series: One-Shots [2]
Category: Marvel
Genre: AU, Angst and Fluff, I should be focusing on school, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, Too much sadness tbh, but I’m not, im writing Fanfic instead, sad and gay, welp oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 04:59:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15923366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panic_for_Bucky_Barnes/pseuds/Panic_for_Bucky_Barnes
Summary: This one’s gonna hurt!





	I’m Not Me

**Author's Note:**

> This one’s gonna hurt!

The Barnes family waited impatiently when his carrier landed. He moaned slightly, and Steve Rogers, the person who had broke him out of torture, immediately turned his head to look at him.

 

“It’ll be alright, Buck. I promise,” he whispered to his friend, barely able to keep the tears in.

 

The hangar door opened and before the stretcher could be unloaded from the carrier, the Barnes family was at their son’s side.

 

Becca Barnes could barely even look at him before she ran off the pad crying.

 

Mrs. Barnes followed her daughter, not only to comfort her, but to comfort herself too.

 

Mr. Barnes placed a tentative hand at his son’s good shoulder, solemn look on his face.

 

Steve Rogers let out a moan and soon, big fat tears were rolling down his cheeks.

 

Bucky Barnes, the man on the stretcher, had no left arm. He had no peace of mind. He didn’t even know his own name. He just laid on the stretcher, bits of the metal arm he once had still connected to his left shoulder. He just laid there, moaning in pain.

 

* * *

 

“Hey Buck?” Bucky scrambled to put something over the ghastly prosthetic he was given. He really didn’t want Steve to see the prototype Stark Industries told him to wear. Hell, he didn’t want Steve to see any of his left arm, even if he had a permanent metal one in place.

 

Steve came to knock on Bucky’s door. Tentatively keeping his hand on the door knob in case he ever had to go inside.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I was wondering if you wanted dinner.”

 

“I’m good today.”

 

Disappointed, Steve drifted off to another lonely dinner in the living area of his apartment. In his room, Bucky sat down at the door. He curled up into a ball and let his head fall to his knees.

 

Bucky wasn’t Bucky anymore. He was once The Winter Soldier, but he wasn’t him either. James Barnes stood in the middle of those two, not one, not the other, but a more deadly and monstrous mix of the two.

 

About an hour passes before Steve knock’s on Bucky’s door again.

 

“Buck? Can I come in?”

 

Once, a long time ago, Bucky would have thrust the door open and beg for a hug, crying in Steve’s arms.

 

He didn’t.

 

Because he wasn’t Bucky anymore. He was James. It took him a minute to remember that.

“Can I come in?” Steve asked again. Bucky didn’t respond.

 

“Buck?” Steve’s hand was on the door knob now, ready to bound right into his friend’s room.

 

“I’ll come in if you don’t answer.”

 

A moan escaped Bucky’s lips. God, he was in pain. His arm hurt, his head hurt, his heart felt like it was going to explode and rip off his right arm. His legs felt like jello, which made him collapse on the side of his bed. James couldn’t get up, it wasn’t possible.

 

The door was locked, a challenge for Steve, but he had a key. The door whipped open and banged on the side of the drywall, leaving a dent. James felt paralyzed, horrified that Steve instantly gasped when he saw him.

 

“Buck- “ Steve had James in a hug within seconds of his crossing the doorframe to his room.

 

“No.”

 

Steve pulled back to study his friend’s face. Tears were welling up in his eyes and his lower lip was trembling.

 

“I’m not him anymore.”

 

James pulled Steve back to him and cried, letting his tears soak up Steve’s shirt. Repeating the last thing he said over and over again.

 

“I’m not Bucky.” He cried. James started to hiccup from his crying.

 

“But you’re still my friend.” Steve whispered.

 

“No matter what, I love you.”

 

“How could you love me with this?” James motioned to his left arm, tears kept coming down his cheeks.

 

Steve fussed and started to unstrap James’ prosthetic. It took him ten minutes before the pipe and dysfunctional hand laid on the ground next to James’ feet.

 

“I still love you, with or without your prosthetic,” Steve said into James’ ear. “This doesn’t make you any less of the person you are.” Steve motioned to the arm.

 

Running his hand over the stump at James’ shoulder, Steve felt something that he hadn’t felt for a long time.

 

Love.

 

While James watched Steve, he realized something.

 

Steve loved him.

 

And he was ok with that.


End file.
